


Miscellaneous Stories of Fen'an Lavellan & Solas

by DeaTenebrae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: #SolavellanHellArtChallenge2020, F/M, Solavellan Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeaTenebrae/pseuds/DeaTenebrae
Summary: I will post here independent Chapters, that play in different times as the other ones. These are all puzzle-tiles of a bigger story :)Day 4 of the Solavellan Hell Art-Challenge - "Elf Ears" - Lavellan leaves the clan for the Conclave.Day 8 of the Solavellan Hell Art-Challenge - "Dalish" - Solas looks for the missing Inquisitor - AFTER TRESPASSER -Day 15 of the Solavellan Hell Art-Challenge - "Ancient Ruins" - way after Trespasser, Solas gets kidnapped ;-)Day 8 of the Solavellan Hell Art-Challenge - "Spirit" - a Memory of the breakup scene - AFTER TRESPASSERDay 21 of the Solavellan Hell Art-Challenge - "Halla" - young Fen'an's POV
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Lavellan & Solas
Kudos: 6
Collections: Solavellan Hell Art Challenge 2020





	1. Elf Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo.. this is a bit tricky. I needed this part for the WIP of the originstory of my Inqui. So it may be a LITTLE out of context here. I hope you can forgive me that I took the whole of it. Its only first draft so please forgive any nonsense in there :-)
> 
> To shorten it you yould skip to the first bigger break

The day of her departure was one of many emotions - it was exhausting, but Fen’an memorised every single second of it for her memory-collection. She was to come back soon after the Conclave, but somehow everything felt so final -- as if it really was a  _ farewell _ . 

In the morning she had taken a last tour through the forest, visited all her favourite places around and finally she called the pack for a last run together. Assan dashed through the underwood -- first as always -- and knocked her over in his youthful enthusiasm, washing her face with his all too long -- and wet -- tongue until the two leaders of the pack, Dava and Banal, followed to finish what their youngest had begun. Rasha, Atisha and the others arrived with wagging tails just a minute later, but Fen’an’s face was already wet enough. Quickly she stood back up to greet the other members of the pack from a less exposed position as they jounced and skipped around her in the purest of joy. Wolves were so much easier to be around -- their emotions were unembellished and not as intrusive and brash as people’s. Chasing after Assan was not easy -- he was as fast as the wind with his paws only kissing the ground ever so lightly as he ran. Fen’an loved it, she enjoyed the wind brushing her face, the whole forest blurring in motion, the earth underneath her feet and the necessity to carefully place her steps on the uneven ground -- one foot set wrong was a guarantee to fall or end up in an intimate embrace with the next tree at this pace. Nearing the camp she slowed down, the coming moment weighed heavily on her. Leaving the pack behind, her friends since she could remember, was one of the hardest things. She would miss their song, their joy and company. Dava had been the first to accept her when Fen’an had been only five years old -- and the first to be named by her. Now Dava was an old wolf with her grey pelt which still had not lost anything of its former beauty. When Fen’an bent down and told her friend she had to leave, she was almost sure the wolf understood -- for it stopped licking her hand, looked her directly into the eyes and let out a soft whimper. Oh how she would miss them. 

The whole clan gathered for her feast, everywhere she looked were happy smiling faces, a lot of laughter, music and jokes, but underneath she sensed the pressing melancholy that held its hand over her family. Together all of them had raised her since her father’s death, every single person on that table was like a father, mother, brother or sister to her. 

Telahmis mimicked the fool to earn laughter from all over the table, playing the hunter that could neither string his bow, nor shoot it -- and today he made a whole play out of it. She would miss these displays of his comedic talents. 

The melodies of an ancient song filled the air, Ellara’s beautiful voice full of emotion, as she sang the farewell-verses that had sent off the elvhen warriors in former times. Fen’an was so proud of the girl she had once taken care of, that now followed in her footsteps as Keeper Deshanna’s apprentice. ... _garas vhenas eth,_ _garas vhenas._ The last words of the song still hung in the air and the uncontrolled waves of emotions emanating from the people she loved were -- all at once -- almost too much to bear. Not even focussing on one of her calmer memories helped to clear her head -- she had to get a little apart from the group so the emotions would not reach her as overwhelming as they were from amidst them. 

Renard had already brought the supplies they would take with them, he would accompany her to the first village, but after that she would be on her own. 

Every single one of the big family that was her clan came to bid her farewell, they only came in groups of two or three, knowing too many emotions at once would send her crying before even half of them were through. The kids had made her a chain of the native flowers to remember home, Keeper Deshanna presented her with her own pristine staff to keep her safe and Telahmis, well, he just feigned a blow to her ribs and told her to stay sharp -- and safe, he added with his eyes. 

She looked back to the forest, that had given her so much joy her whole life with all its little wonders and sights. The calm and quiet had consoled her more than anything after her father's death. All the little wonders and sights were stored in her memory-collection, so she would have them with her wherever she’d go. The memories of today’s feast and all the emotion of their farewell would never leave her. 

“Always act as if you have somewhere to be, keep your head down, keep  _ quiet _ .   
Tread lightly,  _ don’t look them in the eyes _ , keep away from larger groups.    
Avoid the chantry. When you see a templar in the open --  _ run _ . When you spot a Templar in the city -- don't let  _ them  _ see you.    
Wherever you are,  _ always  _ have an escape-route in mind.    
Be the mouse as long as you’re not seen, the halla when you’re exposed, the wolf when you’re attacked.” 

Renard was so nervous to see her go -- ‘his’ girl alone in the world -- he would not stop giving advice. Fen’an hugged him as hard as she could, assuring him that everything would be alright. That did nothing to calm his nerves, but at least he would stop recurring everything they've already been through numerous times. Why was everybody so anxious? She knew what was expected of her. People were easy enough to read and she knew her way with the shems from the market. There were some, that saw you as a person and some that reduced you to your ears. It was not hard to distinguish and she hoped to avoid the second kind as best as she could. 

All the emotions of her family were still weighing her down when she heard something dashing through the brushwood. Assan leaped out of the bushes and the rest of the pack followed him. It was good to see them again, her heart felt lighter the moment she ran her fingers through Banals dark grey streaked pelt. She wished they could stay with her, but it would be a little suspicious if she tried to sneak into the Conclave with eleven wolves surrounding her. The pack escorted her to the borders of their hunting grounds -- they knew the could not join her. Fen’an hugged her friends before she turned away from her home and almost everything she had known. The wolves filled the air with their beautiful howling song as Renard and her ventured on. 

On her way to the Conclave she stayed away from villages and avoided people as best as she could. Unfortunately in these unsafe times, people were not only found in villages. Some of them were camped in small groups, others in larger ones -- in the middle of nowhere, exactly where she had planned her route. There were groups of mages, templars, ordinary people. Fear was everywhere in the air like a stink she could not get rid of. It was only a matter of time for her to either get caught by a group of rogue templars or get into a fight between them and one of the mages groups. It was summer and the nights temperatures were warm enough, she had taken to make her camp in the trees when she made out a suitable one -- so she would not be surprised by a knife in her face. Bandits were threatening the villages and streets. More than once was she woken by people that scurried around where her camp may have been. The nearer she got, the harder it was to avoid being seen. One morning she was woken by an arrow quivering in the bark only inch from her face. “We got ourselves a knife-ear” a rough voice called. One of  _ those  _ people.


	2. Clan Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas visits Clan Lavellan in his search for possible locations of the missing Inquisitor.  
> It's staged about 5-6 years AFTER Trespasser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a part of a WIP and still word-vomit-state so forgive me :)
> 
> Background: It's staged about 5-6 years AFTER Trespasser. Solas and Lavellan had no direct contact in that time. Lavellan is missing and about to see the end of her life. 
> 
> uhm arani means friend - but is not as personal as ma falon (in case you're wondering later)

The camp of clan Lavellan was by the first look just like any other ordinary dalish camp. The Aravels were arranged in an orderly manner, people were weaseling about prepping for the colder episodes of winter, but the resemblance ended there. The children that were running about playing were allowed to run free around the  premises , they were children of all ages and one could see their free spirits in their games. They were allowed to be children, allowed to explore their spirit in their own ways. The looks these people he never met gave him, were curious, open -- so much different from the distant, even hostile looks you earned as a stranger in the usual dalish camp -- it was something rare in dark and chaotic times like this. It was a strange feeling to actually see so many people acting as the one big family Fen’an had described them all those years ago. This clan really was different. These were the people that knew her best, the Keeper she always spoke so fondly about, he hoped to find some answers here _. _

Surprised he watched a human come out of one of the Aravels. He looked friendly, a dark and full beard with grey streaks nearly concealing his big smile as he walked over to him, offering help with a deep and friendly voice. 

Mentioning Fen’an’s name had brought light into the eyes of the older man in front of him.

This man knew her, he must have known her quite good -- a hint of fatherly love in his eyes as he spoke of her. He must have been with the clan for a long time to know her that well. It was not usual for a human to live amidst the dalish. Yet this man seemed somehow part of the family, a valued friend, or something more. He brought her to Keeper Deshanna and stayed for the entire conversation as if it was of direct concern to him. The Keeper’s penetrating eyes were focussed on his while they talked. Though she seemed to understand the urgency, she took her time with the answers she gave, told stories of events long past.

The story of Fen’an’s naming was really an exceptional one, but did not yield any useful information either. He always had wondered how she would have come to bear such a name, given that the wolf was not the most favourable animal in the dalish view of the world. Approaching a pack of wolves simply because she could feel one of them hurt at this young age, only proved that her empathic sense must have been strong from the start. Fen’an had never talked much of her own past, on his question about her name she just had laughed and said with an impish smile “Of course, there were wolves involved -- and hearts!”, but no more. He listened to stories of her adventurous nature or the death of her father -- the last one seeming to shame the man that showed him here.

His mind raced through the entire conversation. He had no time for this distraction, had not planned for this, he had a schedule. There were pieces to be set in place, secrets to be revealed, traps to be set and critical events to be set in motion. Yet, he was here, frantically trying to outrun time. Wasting so much of it just for a hint in the right direction -- looking for clues that could lead him to save her, once more, from herself. He would not imagine a world without her in it. Not yet, at least. __

The Keeper’s stories were not a great help, they only painted a richer picture of things he already had known for himself. Somewhere between the words he only half listened to, finally there was some useful information. He knew that she loved the different sounds of nature, often she had directed his ears to the faintest sounds describing the music she heard within. Now he knew that water was her favourite element, the sound of it most precious to her he had something to look for -- at least, he had a direction. 

Keeper Deshanna closed with a motherly smile. “I can see your concern for her, if there is anything we can do to help, just say the word! Renard will see to everything. May the gods assist you on your hunt.” 

He thanked her respectfully, making his way out of the camp, the human -- Renard -- at his side. “That girl is like a daughter to me -- to us all. And I owe her more than my life.“, he said. “I know a man like me will not be much of a help, but if there is anything we can do… If you needed menpower, I’d have at least ten fine men ready within minutes. If you need anything, please…”, his voice grew silent as he broke off, a pleading look in his eyes. 

“I will find her, I promise.” he vowed, laying his hand reassuringly on Renards shoulders. “But time is running short, arani. I still need to find the  _ right  _ place.” 

Several of the places he had narrowed down held water. Scanning through the maps he remembered, he tried to recall the most special of them. He listed the different places, describing what his reports had told him about the sights: There was a lake besides some beautiful rock-formations, a little watering hole that supposedly had its own intricate natural beauty, a little stream rushed through a part of the forest, with more than one scenic view - and also,  there were a few waterfalls scattered in the large area. Renards face lit up as he mentioned them. “Ahh. There you have it - the waterfalls. My girl was always fascinated by their  songs ! If there is a special one among them, that’s where you find her.” They were out of the camp by now and Renard wished him good luck before he returned. “Tell her, we all miss her and hope she finds her way home again. And tell her, Telahmis would like to introduce his daughter to her...” 

He had lost more than a day to this trip, but the chances to find her in time had increased significantly. Some of the waterfalls were smaller, so he crossed them out going through the list in his head. As he finished, there still were two places remaining: One was a relatively big waterfall coming from the heights of some remnants of the Frostmourne Mountains, the other one was a series of a few falls cascading into a small basin. The two places were days apart though, so he had to choose and hope he got the right one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I will have to rewrite a few things but I guess it's ok for a draft


	3. Ancient Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene is set a long time after Trespasser - at least 10 years later. To tell the story behind I would have a loooot of writing to do. Well, you all have enough fantasy to fill in the holes for yourselves :)

The temple the eluvian brought them to was only a short walk from the ruins they were looking for. Fenris and Zevran were scouting ahead so they would not run unprepared into Qunari or Tevinters. The forest here was different from her home, the songs it sang in the cool breeze differed only slightly. They were looking for a suitable place for an additional entrance to their safe haven - there was none on this side of the world, so the elves of Tevinter and the Qun had no chance to escape their captors. They had visited the place in the fade -- the temple had once been a beautiful and prideful place. In a relaxed pace, Solas walked beside her, sunken in his own thoughts while he watched her explore the new environment. After all these years her curiosity had not lessened a bit, still she marveled at nature's beautiful sights, even more so since she had learned to see the elements of life that bound every living organism together. Their accidental and impossible bond had changed her further than he could have imagined and as far as he could say, the change was far from complete -- it just had slowed down. Zevran came back, a simple nod indicating everything was alright further down the way. Fen'an sent a challenging smile to his direction before she started off into the woods -- Zevran behind. Solas was glad he didn't have to engage in their all too youthful games and followed them without hurry. When Fen'an arrived at the first broken columns of the temple, Fenris was nowhere to be seen. Knowing her friends, she knew something was going on, and braced herself for the impact that followed a little earlier than anticipated, as Fenris' arm reached out behind a wall with a motion quick as lightning, caught her mid run and whirled her around to compensate the momentum until she came to stop, her back to another wall. 

"I would appreciate you two leaving those games for safer territory. Even  _ you _ can be surprised by a Magister from behind, and they  _ breed _ them here.", he grumbled, but the wave of amusement around him gave him away. "Why, am I not properly protected by the world's broodiest elf and its fastest assassin?" Fen'an panted totally out of breath, with a wink to the aforementioned Assassin. 

"Assessment?" she asked, gently pushing the elf that blocked her way backwards with her flat hand on his breastplate. Rebelliously holding ground for the fraction of a second, Fenris backed slowly away. 

"This could be a good place for one of your… bubbles. To the south and west are good spots for scouts to hide, the temple itself is inaccessible from the north, should there be a greater threat the people could retreat to the entrance and be guided home from there. The first halls in the upper part of the temple are mostly destroyed as you can see, but further in is an archway that seems suitable to host your gateway -- at least to me. You or Solas should have a look. There is however a vault I haven't been to yet." 

"This could be fun! We can have a look at it later. It is closed up?" 

Fenris nodded. "Tightly"

"Perfect! Zev?" 

"Everything clear. Not one soul breathing around. Not even one small Magister, though the way Fenris sees it, we should expect them to rise out of the ground any moment." Zevran paused with a suspicious one-eyed glance to the earthen floor before grinning broadly to Fenris direction (who snorted scornfully) and continued in a conspiratorial manner "I believe there should be an elven encampment somewhere, but it is said to be protected by some ghost of the woods." His eyes widened in feigned fear. "One of the freshlings told the story before we left" 

"Spirit" Solas corrected in his finest teachers voice as he joined them. "Even you should know the difference and the right expression by now." 

Zevran grimaced behind his back as Solas turned to Fenris and pointed to the temple. "The archway? Main hall?" 

Fenris shook his head once "Take the sideway in the far left corner behind the shrine, the main entrance is blocked." 

Solas acknowledged the information with a thankful nod. "I'll have a look at the archway" he took Fen'ans hands and kissed them lightly. "Will you check out the possible dimensions for our  _ 'bubble' _ ?" an arched brow at the last word foreshadowed the amused expression now emerging on his face. Technically it was some sort of bubble, but calling it that was a bold oversimplification of a spell so complicated, he had not even thought it possible at first. "Join me when you're done, vhenan?" he asked pulling her in for kiss. What from the outside may have looked like a casual kiss between lovers conveyed in truth so much more through their bond. For a moment they smiled at each other, eyes locked before they parted. "Afterwards we may try to find your  _ 'ghost' _ and with a little luck, the people it is said to protect." Solas stated with a chiding side glance to Zevran on his way further into the ruins. 

Accompanied by the two remaining elves, Fen'an rounded the perimeter to determine and measure how much of the surrounding area they could include. A sudden spike of magical energy rooting within the temple ruins startled her. Fear grabbed at her with greedy fingers, as the bond seemed to stretch out, fading away to an unfathomable direction. For a short moment -- she was already heading to the temple -- she could feel Solas through the bond, startled, frightened before only darkness came through. Either he was unconscious or he had somehow sealed the connection. When the trio reached the room with the archway, Fen'an could feel the magic lingering, exactly at the archway they were here to use for their gateway. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her mind, the way Solas had shown her, drew in a deep breath and another one before she concentrated on the residue of magic she felt. It had been used as a portal. She had never tried following a portal spell without Solas. He had shown her how but following a portal into an uncertain destination was not the smartest move. 

"Touch my hands" she muttered calmly under her breath and stretched out her arm. When she felt the touch of both her companions, she opened her eyes to perceive the structure of the magical flows. With a wink of her hand she remade the portal that had been cast before, but rendered the destination to a spot further away from it's original target. 

The place they landed was both interesting and frightening. They were in the fade. Only a few feet from them towered a huge wall, it was all black -- a black so indescribably deep that it seemed to absorb all the light and colour around. Fen'an felt a kind of corruption within the whole fabric of the huge city behind those walls. It felt awfully disgusting, only looking at the non-existent colour of it made her sick to the core.

Zevran motioned them to duck behind a near rock when he spotted something moving afar. It was a demon they observed, clad in the same light-absorbing blackness the walls were in. By the form it seemed to be Rage, but a strangely corrupted version. Gladly it had not spotted them. Neither of the group dared to breathe as the demon came close enough to spot its fiery eyes. It turned around eventually, Fenris, who was more than on edge despite being used to spirits by now heaved a deep sigh of relief. "We have to go  _ now! _ " He pressed out through his teeth. 

"I don't know if I can find this place again if we just go, Fenris. I can't just leave him." Fen'an's sorrowfilled voice was almost inaudible.

The view around the dead hill the city was built on, seemed to include almost the whole of the fade. Solas was held captive within the black city. The city not even the Maker dared to touch. The corrupted city. Neither Solas nor the Maker himself had known the exact history of its fall. 

Fen'an had no idea what to do now -- the city was impenetrable, even without the corruption that had taken ahold of its essence. In their new formed archives was almost nothing to find about the black city. It corrupted everything it came in contact with, the Maker had warned them before he left. If not even him would touch the city, how could she get Solas out there? How would this corruption affect Solas and what did that mean for him and their bond? Who would even capture Solas, if the Evanuris were all dead or dealt with? 

"Fen! We have to leave. If we stay here we will have to dance around the rock, and I don't believe you're up for dancing right now? We need to move, back there is another one." Thoughts racing, Fen'an tried to find a solution. She needed more information. More time. A way back. A way out. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not very good in writing dialogues, if anyone has suggestions how to bring more life into it, please humor me! I need help xD


	4. Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'an returned from the Trespasser-Scene, after all of her social duties as Inquisitor, she sinks onto the bed in the Winter Palace. Memories rise, while she is still in shock. This is one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A memory of Fen'an , while she is still in shock. It is but a piece of a whole scene but all of it would be too much and too confusing without Fen's trespasser scene, so, this one is short.
> 
> I know this is technically not about Spirits, but I wasted my desire spirit - encounter in "the fade" - if you want to, you can check out the other story (chapter one of the ways of the Sominari)

Another memory rose up. The day he freed her of her vallaslin. It was a beautiful memory up to the point where it had all turned sour. The place he chose was perfect. The rushing sounds of the small streaming waterfalls with the drops of the misty air that built up on the cave’s ceiling until they rejoined the small basin in the middle. It was music in her ears. Her skin tingled a bit, the veil was thin there. She felt it even before he mentioned it. It was a magical place, full of life, magic and wonders. Even the plants seemed to have a certain glow to them. 

She felt he wanted to tell her something of importance to him, something big. His words were sweet as he told her how much she meant to him. Through his hand she could feel his pulse quickening the closer they came to the center, sensed his fear rising. Something he was afraid to tell her about was circling in his mind. 

“Then what I must tell you... the truth.” With that last word a sudden change in his emotions occurred, a complete turn around as the fear had taken over and he changed his initial plan within the second. It was obvious to her so she tried to reassure him, thought, she may have succeeded when he removed the vallaslin and kissed her, letting her lose herself in his eyes again. Until the changing expression on his face and emotions of defeat brought her back to reality. She was completely and thoroughly confused when he broke up with her, darkness now shifting in his eyes, only a moment after that kiss and this deep and loving look. 

“Tell me you don’t care!” she demanded though she knew he could not, felt his heart nearly bursting, same as hers. “Solas, I love you. Don’t go, not now. Tell me why at least!” 

“You have a rare and marvellous spirit, vhenan… In another world.” She knew there was more, she had felt it before he just pulled back. “...and why not this one? You can talk to me, just trust me, Solas. You know I feel…” His head shaking, he cut her off, eyes full of dark grey clouds. “I... can’t... I am sorry” he uttered with an already broken voice as he turned to leave. _It all made so much more sense now_. 

The shock that held her body and mind since Solas took the anchor, was beginning to retreat and her sense of self came back slowly. With it, memories of what happened earlier this day flashed through her mind. When it came to the moment of the kiss, the memory stopped and went blank. The void attacked at the very same second with a shock that went through every fibre of her being, paralyzing her thoughts and body. She began to feel a pull -- coming out of every direction at once, from everywhere and nowhere, somewhere _between_ herself -- trying to tear the remaining rest of her to shreds. It was the first time she succumbed to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This introduces the void, that my poor Lavellan will have to fight from this day on, until ... well that's another story. All, because of a wish so strong. Solas did not just remove the anchor, some invisible part of Fen'ans self hitched the ride. The void is the consequence.


	5. The Halla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'an is only between 5 and 6 summers old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry

The old halla followed him with a tired look in the eyes, its pace slow, it's own weight too much for the feeble feet. His steps were heavy, loaden with the weight of what was to come, he braced himself for the ultimate pain that soon would take ahold of him. Away from the camp he settled down, kneeled before the friend the halla had become in all the years since he had witnessed its birth, welcomed it to the world and the herd. Melancholy gripped his heart, made it swell in the pain of the coming loss, the pressure of the feeling pushing outwards -- he had to fight down the tears while he softly stroked the nostrils of his friend. He could not bring himself to touch the blade that would end this era of friendship and trust. The deep black eyes seemed to know what lay ahead. It was time and he knew that he would only spare his friend the pain of the inevitable, still the grip of sorrow held him in its piercing claws. Trembling fingers caressed the old fur that once had been soft as a baby's hair, the pressure built up to finally push out the tears that were waiting to be shed, the pain too much to repress anymore. Memories rose before his inner eye, as he pressed his forehead against the old girl's. Tears ran down his cheeks as he forced his other hand to the waiting knife on his side. It trembled so much that he needed to steady himself mentally, before making another attempt. He had a whole herd of halla under his care, but this one had been special and he would never forget.

The light in the eyes of his friend flickered before it went out and the lifeless body sacked to the earth. Simultaneously his heart and head nearly burst from all the pain, the pressure tearing him apart when he closed the lightless eyes forever. 

He heard the footsteps running towards him in the last second but through the veil of tears he could only see silvery white hair before the girl wrapped her arm around his neck, crying, shaking, same as him. 

The girl followed her friend and the halla out of the camp. Suhren was so very sad and the halla wanted to sleep. She was curious where they were going. She wanted to go to help Suhren with his sadness but the sadness was much stronger, when she came near. She did not want to scare him, so she waited behind in the trees and watched. The halla was calm. It was tired, it hurt. Her friend hurt as well but different and there was something like fear coming from him. It was confusing, she did not know words for the feelings that reached her. The sadness was so deep, it was drowning her friend, hurting him, his face changed between his sad one, and one completely different, like, when you cried, but without tears. He loved the halla and the halla loved him back. Suhren finally cried, sending tears running down her own cheeks, he was so sad that it hurt, it hurt so much her own heart ached with him. The girl saw how he tried to pick up something laying beside him in the grass, but it fell from his hand. She felt how he tried to fight the sadness, his lips trembled when he raised his hand. The Halla wanted to sleep, it was tired, but it felt the hurt of its friend. It wanted to console him as she felt its presence fade, but even with the short hurt that came before it felt free when it did, it felt loved when it went to sleep. Suhren sobbed, and she did with him, he hurt and she wanted to help him. 

"She knew it was time" Fen'an sniveled. "She loved you back, she wanted to sleep" another tear ran down the girls cheeks -- she had witnessed death the first time and what it meant to end a life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry


	6. Crestwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'an experiences the undead

Of all the creatures in Thedas, the undead were some of the most terrifying to Fen'an. Where the usual kind of demon sent out some sense of of their purpose when they came within close range -- rage, desire, fear, hunger, despair -- the undead were completely different. They were tortured beings, the longing for the life they could not reach twisted in the darkness of its absence to an unquenchable hate for the light that is life -- they felt like death reaching out. It was hard to defend against the pure hate they were bursting out in rapid pulses over a wide range, overshadowing the more subtle waves her companions radiated. Fen'an held back as far as possible, her companions having an eye on her, Solas as a backup never far away -- they all knew she could not stand to be close to one of the revived dead.  A crypt full of them she could handle, and usually, her senses came in handy when it came to the undead, but this was no mere crypt, here in Crestwood the dead were too numerous, defending herself against their kind of hate all the time wore her down to the point where she had to capsule herself in, become emotionally tranquil to not get overwhelmed. 

Solas' worries about the Inquisitor grew the further they ventured. The expression on her face grew only darker with every new encounter, the light in her eyes growing dimmer the farther they came -- the cruel history they brought to light had not helped her mood, though she had told them from the beginning that the mayor held a dark secret concerning the caves. Varric tried every trick in the book to cheer her up, but even he could only get a tired, forced smile out of her. She had not said more than four words since entering the flooded caves. She did not even look at him when he tried to calm her nerves -- nearly lightless eyes staring wide-eyed to the way ahead, that would hold the next torture. If it would not compromise his cover, he would clear the damned area by himself to shield her from more. He took her face in his hands to force her gaze to his eyes and her focus back from her senses to the world. She blinked as if waking up, dark shadows clouded the usual brightness of her eyes, rendering them almost colourless in the flickering light of the torches. "Stay" he pleaded. "Bull, Varric and I will clear out the next section. Please vhenan, sit one out. You will need your strength for the rift." He nodded to Bull who was already on his way to scout around the next corner. The rift was born far, he could feel it.

Fen'an slowly shook her head "Thank you for your concern vhenan. It's alright, I can manage." Her hoarse monotone voice emotionless, almost cold. "I know you can, but you should not - you're barely holding up." He had witnessed it once before -- when she shut herself off, she was calm and unemotional, but not like this -- her eyes empty and unreachable. 

"Cole, are you with us?" he asked to the air. 

"Love twisted. Lust for light. Death knocking. No more. The cage helps."

"I know, Cole. But she is in far too deep, can you help?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas - it would have gone further but it is all I can manage for today :(


	7. Dance

Fen'an hated dancing, or so she claimed whenever the word fell in a conversation. 

Solas knew this not to be true entirely. He had seen her marvel in the song of a rainy forest, dance her joy with raised hands, face in the air and a broad smile on her lips. This was an old memory, from the start of their journey, when the former Herald of Andraste was making her name in the Hinterlands. Fen'an snuck out of camp the moment it began to rain, and curious as he was by nature, he followed to uncover what dark secret may draw out the Herald in the middle of a thunderstorm. This had been one of the first surprises Fen'an held for him with many more to follow. The dark secret dance of joy would always paint a smile on his lips when the thought emerged. 

Tonight was the night Fen'an dreaded since Josephine and Leliana told her about the Masquerade. They had tried to put her in dresses, they taught her the necessary dances, but the tired look whenever they released her and she fled to him, to the rotunda, the sighs when she let herself fall into his chair, spoke volumes. She hated it, though she never complained, it was obvious she'd rather face Corypheus alone and barehanded. The Inquisitor overruled any of the ambassadors attempts to get her to wearing a dress by declaring she would represent the Inquisition in their uniform like everyone else. Josephine could not help but to redesign the uniforms -- and she did a great job with it, they looked elegant, fashionable and not overly pompous. 

His agents were all over the palace, a few of them real servants, some only in disguise. He had a lot to coordinate without letting anyone notice -- but for the people here, he was merely the announced apostate elven "servant", so nobody really took care of whom he talked to. The winter palace reminded him of the courts of the old days, millennia can go by and nothing changes but the players in the game. 

Fen'an visited more than once, concerned how they treated him, annoyed how she was treated and tired of the game. She was too honest to be at court but she held herself very professional -- the lessons Mme de Fer, Leliana, Dorian and Josephine nearly tortured her with seemed to fruit. With her senses, the game should have been easier, than for most untrained people, and with them she uncovered much additional useful information for Leliana and Josephine, but all the layers of masks, falsities, hidden agendas and ulterior motives behind every single one of the actual masks, had to be much for an empath like her. 

The Inquisitor was never seen on the dancefloor but the one time, all eyes in the room laid on the pair, the hum of the chatter swelled in volume. Seeing her down there, even in the Inquisitions uniform, took away his breath -- in another time, he would have rescued her, showing the whole hall a spectacle they would never forget. Silver-white hair flowed behind her as she faced the duchess in her own game, giving her nothing. She danced as if she'd never done anything else, her delicate frame moving with a dazzling grace, the purposeful strides light and in perfect synch with the rhythm of the song. Not quite the untrained elven apostate the duchess had hoped for, he guessed. He knew his assessment of this woman had been right, when Fen’an returned to Cullen with a concerned look on her face -- she must have read the duchess in their dance. The Inquisitor showed the whole world that she was a force to be reckoned with this evening. 

In the end, none of the people had seen the Inquisitor dance a second time. Solas was not surprised to find her on a balcony outside. The witch, Morrighan just made her leave -- he did not like the look she gave him. He would have an eye on that one. 

Fen'an leaned on the balustrade with closed eyes and seemed to enjoy the fresh air with slow, deep breaths and a calm expression in her features. The breeze played with the silvery strands of hair that cascaded down her back, the golden mask lay idly beside her. He watched her for a moment before approaching silently from behind. Her hair filled the air with her unique scent as she turned around, startled by his sudden presence. The corners of her mouth morphed into his special smile when she recognised him. 

"Already tired of the game?", he asked mockingly and Fen'an only rolled her eyes, the smile stayed tough. To extend the mockery, he added with a broad smile in an inordinately enthusiastic tone: "You were so beautiful on the dancefloor, you must have enjoyed the dance at least.", while he caught a loose strand of silver the breeze blew to her face. 

"Ugh and I thought I've had enough sarcasm for one evening." 

"Why, there was not a shred of sarcasm involved!" He exclaimed appalled. "Well, maybe a little. But your dance was beautiful." 

"This was no dance, it was nothing more than  a fight  with choreographed steps." 

"Oh it can be more than that, vhenan. Come, let me show you." 

He bowed and held out his hand as it had been tradition in Arlathan. "You might end up enjoying it after all."

  



	8. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Fen'an's magic shows

On a cold winter's night, Fen'an woke. Alone, with panic blooming in her chest. It took her a minute to realize the panic was not her own and accompanied by a sheer tornado of emotions - fear was one of them. Her father had been on watch for the night and there were purposely no other aravel positioned near enough for her to sense the people within, so she curiously went to look for the source of the ominous panic. It came from a human she spied at the supplies-wagon, the only aravel near hers. The next things that happened were burned in her memory forever. Another man came into view, it was dark so she could not see the faces of the two men -- now fighting -- at first. Many different emotions reached her, still in the shadows of her aravel. The intruder was in panic, he did not want to hurt anyone, he was hungry and weak and he worried about people he loved -- but he had been caught and was cornered, lashing out with everything he got left, to try to flee. The other man was someone familiar, one of her clan simply trying to defend their supplies. She was not near enough to distinct who it was.

A too familiar voice screamed as the intruder shoved the other man into one of the stakes near the wagon. In this moment her mind exploded as her own piercing scream filled the air. The intruder was pushed against the wagons door with a blast, pinned a feet off ground against the wood -- but she did not notice. Tears in the eyes, she ran to her dying father, feeling the excruciating pain emanating from the stake that stood out his chest. What happened next was foggy in her mind. Too many tears had clouded her sight, too many emotions hammered onto her -- her own that seemed to asphyxiate her, sucking all the breath out her lungs; her father’s pain and sorrow to leave her behind as his bloody hands caressed her face, his gaze melting into her eyes -- her mother's eyes --; the one's of the clanspeople that had followed her outcry; the shem’s. It took several moments until the quietly spoken words of the Keeper reached her through the fog. Deshanna whispered soothingly, calmed her, until she heard the human sack down to the floor -- the men of her clan surrounding him. They wanted his death, she felt it. A death for a death. 

The human had given up, he did not move or resist. He cried silent tears -- not for himself but for someone he loved dearly. Fen’an had not spoken a word. Questions arose what to do with the murderous intruder. When she found the strength to speak, the elder ones grew silent -- wisps of harmless, but uncontrolled magic sparkled around her. The man owed her a father, owed her a life. And she demanded it, demanded that he lived it in service of the clan as her father would have done. His family would not suffer hunger anymore. He would get the supplies he tried to steal, he would work for them. That was her verdict -- and the clan agreed with it. The human, Renard, came back the next day and helped out as promised. True to his word he returned every day after, eventually becoming a vital part of the family and almost like a father to her. Not that she did not mourn her father -- that she did, and she missed him greatly. But even though this man had been responsible for her loss, she could not hold it against him. Deep down, he was a good man, riven by his own mourning, his deep regret and guilt. Years after, Renards whole family had joined to live with the clan -- and may well have been the first shem-family to join a clan in dalish history. 


	9. The Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's not too confusing :)   
> POV - the place in between

Once it had been a busy place, it took joy in watching its creators travel, linger and mingle in the beauty of its gardens. Time meant nothing here. Moments later their descendents became the new travelers. Something happened in the worlds outside and travelers became scarce, until there were only a few that remembered its existence. After these moments its connection to the neighbouring fade began deteriorating slowly but surely. Long moments of silence followed, not one visited the gardens, most of its ways were blocked or locked then. 

In recent moments, it had seen more action. It was a little confused, but thankful for the distraction. It was a first in all the moments, as it discovered the new kinds of travelers in its realm -- all of them unconnected, quick and hasty, save the first. The first was not one, but two. It looked different from its usual travellers -- it was a female, short eared and broader built, harbouring the soul of a former traveller. The second was similar but different, three souls and two hearts -- a short-eared becoming mother in despair, looking for a place to hide. It took pity in her, showed her a way to safety. She visited often, was busy between the gardens and the safe-pocket and lingered, it enjoyed the presence. Moments later, the new traveller left with a child that was also two, as the first visitor had been, only slightly different. More visitors of this short-eared kind followed, after the mother left.

The descendants of its creators that roamed its realms in these moments were changed, they felt different -- quick, they lacked time and more, just like the short-ears -- though some of the true ones still traveled. The new travellers chased each other, it did not understand them in all their hastiness. It had gotten a new name, the crossroads was it called by them. It did not care about names, the old one was long forgotten. Only the hasty descendants of the creators visited for a moment, then, one of the true descendants came, after meddling with the magic of one of the portals. It had seen this traveller before, many moments ago, he had been one of the regulars, part of a group that lead hundreds of travellers through the gardens. He looked different without the hair, but it was a nice distraction to see one familiar face return again. The mother and the first both visited often, but separately. 

Once the mother returned with a hasty long-ear, old magic on her palm, and met with both of them that were two. Four left, the first now pulsating with the power of three. 

Only descendants of the creators walked the gardens the next moments -- hasty and true ones. The old traveller took good care of the gardens, they returned almost to their former glory. 

In another moment, the crossroads was puzzled by new additions to the recent travellers. Strange people of stolen, ancient blood, that looked very different to its creators with the bizarre extensions on their heads and their boiling tempers. 

A mixed group of all kinds followed the hot-bloods one moment -- a spirit of compassion; the hasty descendant, pulsating with the curious, nearly out of control-magic it had previously seen with the mother; a very big hot-blood and a very small, also new kind of traveller. The recent moments were full of action, the crossroads loved this kind of distraction. 

The hot-bloods did not return. The group did, but the descendant returned in shock with only a partial soul, lacked its strange magic and an extremity -- it looked battered and broken when it trudged through the gates, and the crossroads wondered.

The gardener, returned almost in the same moment as the group, but on a different plane of the gardens. He looked battered and broken as well when he stepped through the gate, only to fall on his knees in an instant. The outcry the gardener let loose echoed through the gardens. The crossroads did not understand why he carried the missing part of the soul, the hasty descendant that just left lacked, but it wondered. 

The crossroads was delighted by all this action, it was curious about the next moment of distraction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For it, the Crossroads is just a title, that's why the POV stayed singular ("the crossroads was...")
> 
> If I fucked up grammatically and you can help, pls PM me - I am here to learn :)

**Author's Note:**

> so I hope you enjoyed it at least a little. Even if there is no blushing and romance involved :)
> 
> critics are welcome :)


End file.
